


A Fate No One Wants

by robinasnyder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-27 00:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1708193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinasnyder/pseuds/robinasnyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gadreel doesn't care that he was as drunk as Sam. He doesn't care that Sam actually remembers a little of what happened and Gadreel doesn't remember a damn thing. Gadreel knows he'd never have said no to Sam if they'd been sober. As far as Gadreel's concerned he raped Sam Winchester, and that's the worst thing he's ever done in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It really wasn’t how Gadreel wanted it. He was the dumbass who’d given a friend a ride to the store, only to get pulled over when the friend got out of the store and they’d driven away. It turned out that his friend had robbed and killed someone. It didn’t matter that he had no idea what his friend had done or been planning to do. He was 16, he drove the car, he was in prison from 16 until he was 36. 

His whole life was like that. Who named their child Gadreel anyway? He had his friends call him Gad. Well, Abner did. He got letters from Abner a lot. They’d been close, lovers when they were in prison, but once Abner was released he went and got married and had a child. 

Gad got letters, paper letters. He got them in the mail all the time. He wrote back every day. He could send emails, he had Abner’s email, but Gad liked paper letters and so did Abner. They spent a ton on stamps. Sometimes Abner would send Gad some stamps along with the letters when he knew Gad was short on money. Gad appreciated it. 

But it still wasn’t the same thing as having a flesh and blood person in his life. 

So when he met Sam Winchester, it was like the whole world started again for Gadreel. They shared a shift at the bar they both worked at. And Sam was beautiful, and warm and just good. And Gadreel was very much in love with him. 

And how they got together was the worst way possible. Because Sam didn’t want Gadreel at all, but they’d both been too drunk to say no. The only thing that mattered when they woke up was that in the light of day Gad wanted Sam, but Sam hadn’t decided if he’d wanted Gad. So Sam saw what happened as Gadreel raping him. 

And Gadreel didn’t see it any different. 

“I’ve ruined this,” Gadreel said over the phone to Abner. He never called Abner. He didn’t want to interrupt his life, but this wasn’t something he could wait to hear back about in a letter. 

“I’m sorry, Gad,” Abner said in his sympathetic voice. Gadreel missed him terribly. He didn’t just miss his kisses, or his warm body. He missed Abner and his words and easy laughter and big smiles. He missed Abner as his friend most of all.

“Don’t be sorry. I did it, I hurt him,” Gadreel said. He thought he might be sick at the thought. He’d at least waited until his hangover had faded before he’d called Abner about it. 

“May I remind you that you were probably just as drunk as he was? Would you have been able to say no?” Abner asked. 

“I wouldn’t have said no if Sam had asked me when I was sober,” Gadreel said, trying to not get too loud. The walls of his apartment weren’t very thick at all and he didn’t want to bother his neighbors.

“But if he’d been someone else, with how much you consumed, would you have been able to say no?” Abner asked. 

“No,” Gad said. There was a short, but uncomfortable silence and then Gad started speaking very quickly. “But that’s normal for me, Abner. You know that. I get drunk and amorous, and it’s normal.” 

“Gad, I tell you that isn’t normal or right, especially when a lot of those guys have drunk a lot less than you,” Abner protested. It was a normal protest. But if Gad got drunk, what happened was his fault, wasn’t it?

“Yeah, but Sam was drunk too, and this isn’t normal for him. It’s not acceptable. I don’t know how to fix it, Abner, and I don’t know if I even can.” 

Gad could hear Abner’s heavy sigh over the phone. “Alright. The first thing you need to do is apologize.” 

“I did. When we first woke and he freaked out.” 

“Well, go to him and apologize in a calm manner. Try to not do it in front of people, but not in a way that he feels threatened or cornered. Speak slowly and calmly and explain to him that you don’t believe what you did was right, and you don’t know if you can ever make it better for him, but you are going to try. For now, that’s the best you can do.” 

“Thank you,” Gad said with a bit of relief. 

He hung up after that and started making notes about what he’d say. This was important. Sam deserved every good thing, and Gadreel had caused him great harm. He also didn’t want to force him presence upon Sam. 

The first thing he did was work on how he was going to say what needed to be said. This wasn’t about him and how he felt, it was about Sam. He wrote his speech and rewrote it and practiced it up until he left for work. 

Sam had swapped shifts. Gadreel knew because Sam’s name was on the board still, but just with a different time swap. Gadreel came during a lull time when he’d be able to get Sam aside. He went to the bar, which was open and serving food and drink in the afternoon. 

Sam stiffened when he saw Gadreel. Gadreel noticed. He swallowed and went right up to Sam. “May I speak with you for a moment, Sam?” 

Sam glared at him. He grit his teeth and set his jaw before he spoke. “I’m listening.” 

“Not here… it’s about… well… How about out back. Away from people, but you know...” Outside with plenty of space to run is what he didn’t say. 

“Risa, I’ll be back in ten,” Sam called to their co-worker. She hollered something back and Sam took off his apron. He made a sharp motion indicating that Gadreel should follow him out back to where the dumpsters were. 

“Thank you, Sam,” Gadreel said before they got out back. 

“Don’t,” Sam snapped once the door was shut. “I thought you were better than that. I knew you had a crush on me, I just didn’t think you’d just-” Sam cut himself off. Gadreel felt sad. He was still on parole and couldn’t just leave his job. Sam radiated discomfort and anger. 

“I’m sorry for what I did. My being drunk is no excuse for what I did. I hurt you, which is the last thing I’d ever want to do, but I did it anyway. I accept that I shouldn’t have insisted, or whatever I did.” Because in truth, Gadreel had been so drunk he didn’t really remember except that he woke up next to Sam and for a moment, a wonderful, brilliant moment he had been so happy. Then Sam woke up and it had been the worst nightmare of Gadreel’s life. 

“You know I’m on parole, correct?” Gadreel asked. 

“Yeah, of course I know,” Sam snapped. 

“If you so choose you can file charges, or speak with my parole officer. I will admit to what I have done and go back to prison,” Gadreel said. 

“You’ll what?” Sam asked. Well, that threw him anyway. Gadreel had told him, slowly, over the months they’d known each other, some of what happened while he was locked up and his fear of going back. Gadreel felt a terrible terror crawl up his throat at the thought. 

Still, he plunged his hands into his pockets and pulled out a carefully folded piece of paper. He offered it to Sam, who took it, though Sam looked really confused as he opened it. 

“That’s Officer Henrikson’s number, his cell and office number. Below that are the statutes you can site so that you can be certain he’ll send someone to come get me. Below that are the numbers you should call in the police station, and who you should ask for if you’d like to report me that way.” 

“You’re serious!?” Sam nearly shouted in shock. He dropped the paper. Gad stooped and grabbed it from the dirt and offered it to Sam again. Sam crossed his arms over his chest and wouldn’t take it. 

“Sam, please, I put all this together for you,” Gadreel said. What he wanted to say, but didn’t say was ‘please don’t be so cruel as to make me beg you to send me back to that hell.’

“Gad, I can’t send you back there!” Sam shouted. 

“Sam, you should at least have this option. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to, but this is your choice and if you decide to do it, this is the information you should have,” Gadreel said, louder, but not shouting. 

Sam and Gadreel went silent. They starred at each other for a while before Sam reached out and shakily took the paper. He carefully folded it up and put it in his pocket. 

“Why are you here, Gadreel?” Sam asked quietly. 

“I came to apologize, and to tell you that while I don’t believe there is anything I can do to make up for what happened that I am going to do everything in my power to try. I will keep my distance, but I’m not going to leave you alone and pretend like this didn’t happen, that I did hurt you.” 

Sam looked truly torn. “Gad, you were probably drunker than I was.” He spoke quietly. “You couldn’t have said no either.” 

Gadreel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could take that as an out… but it wouldn’t make it better. He still had his eyes shut when he spoke. “Sam, I never would have said no to you.” 

“But you didn’t have the option,” Sam protested quietly. 

“But it doesn’t matter because the answer was yes anyway. You can’t rape the willing.” Gadreel opened his eyes. He forced strength into his stance and into his voice. “But you had the choice taken from you.” 

“But-” Sam started. 

“Do you feel good about what happened?” Gadreel asked. 

“No, I don’t,” Sam said instantly. It felt like a kick in the chest, but Gadreel nodded and he didn’t tear up or let himself look hurt. 

“Then that’s what matters. I don’t feel good about it either, but only for two things. The first is that I hurt you. The second is that I can’t remember what happened.” 

“I do remember,” Sam said quickly, looking a little panicked. 

“But would you have said yes if you were sober?” Gadreel asked. 

“I don’t know,” Sam said quietly. He looked down and away. 

“Then that’s it. You do what you need to in order to feel better. Whatever you need from me, you have.” 

“I’m not going to call the police on you,” Sam said suddenly. But he didn’t hand the paper back. Gadreel imagined that was because Sam knew he wouldn’t accept it. 

“You have every right.” 

“But it just feels petty,” Sam said. 

“But it shouldn’t.” 

“But it does, Gad. It just does. I wouldn’t have done it even if you hadn’t given me that piece of paper.” 

“Why?” Gadreel demanded. “I would deserve it.” 

“No, you don’t. You feel bad about it. You didn’t want… you wanted me, not a night you couldn’t even remember, Gad. We were both wasted but at least I remember some of it. I feel sick about it, but I know you do too… different reasons, but still. So it’s petty to send you back to prison when you just got out, and ruin probably any chance you’d ever had of getting parole again. How I feel isn’t worth all of that.” 

“But you are, Sam!” Gadreel said instantly with great vehemence. He took a step forward. Sam visibly winced and took a step back. Gadreel swallowed and calmed himself, taking a step back as well. He was the one who could be easily pushed into a corner. He was the one with his back to the alley’s back wall, with Sam between Gadreel and the street. Sam could run if he needed. 

“I’m sorry… but you are worth all that and more,” Gadreel said, speaking softer. “And what’s saddest is that I have to be the one to tell you that. It was an accident and a mistake, but I know you’re not okay. If what you need is me away then that’s what you need. I’m only selfish enough to not turn myself in on my own.” 

“Gad, don’t-” Sam started. 

“Sam,” Gadreel said a bit more insistently, though still a soft voice. 

“Gad… I feel sick. I’d been thinking that maybe… I don’t know, I haven’t been with guys before, but that thing with Ruby exploded… and I don’t know. It seemed like maybe. But now I know I can’t. I can’t ever want to be with you,” Sam said. 

Gadreel felt like Sam had stabbed him. Gadreel couldn’t help the sharp breath he drew in. Sam had thought he might have wanted him. Gadreel had a moment where he just wanted to run past Sam out in front of a moving car. But no, he’d never do that. Sam would feel some kind of misplaced guilt, and Abner would be upset. 

“I’m sorry,” Gadreel said softly. 

“I know you are,” Sam said quietly, moving away from Gadreel, and back toward the front entrance. “But I can’t. Okay?” 

“Yeah, no, I understand,” Gadreel said. 

Sam looked hesitant, then he turned and went back into the bar.


	2. Chapter 2

“You know, most men don’t come into my office and admit a crime, although, admittedly, this one would be hard to prosecute since the alleged victim hasn’t come forward,” Henriksen said. 

“I’m not certain he will,” Gadreel said, sinking down more into his chair. 

“Milton, if you drop down in that chair any more, you’ll be on the floor, straighten up,” Henriksen said. Gadreel did as he was told. 

“Sorry, sir,” Gadreel said. 

“You gave him my number?” Henriksen said, though Gadreel told him in great detail exactly what was on the piece of paper he’d given Sam. 

“Yes, I did,” Gadreel said. 

“And you said his name was Sam Winchester?” Henriksen asked. 

“Yes.” 

“And he works at the bar you work at?” 

“Yes… although if you’re going to go ask him questions, please don’t be… mean about it.” 

“I just need to know if he is going to report this,” Henriksen said. “You know, a lot of people wouldn’t consider it rape.” 

“Well it is,” Gadreel said quickly. 

“Your friend Abner called me,” Henriksen said. Gadreel ducked his head a bit. “He said you’d had some experience with this in the past.” 

“Not really,” Gadreel said. 

“Yeah, well, he’s worried. If I were you, I’d call him back. And I won’t bully the guy. I just need to talk to him.” 

“Okay,” Gadreel agreed. 

He couldn’t help but be nervous, though. He was so nervous that when Henriksen showed up to see Sam during the next shift change over, Gadreel nearly fainted. He didn’t, but he did spend a half hour polishing the same glass over and over, watching while Henriksen and Sam sat at one table, quietly talking. Then the two of them got up and walked out and Gadreel felt like he was going to jump out of his own skin.

* * *

“I want to thank you for agreeing to speak with me,” Henriksen said once Sam sat across from him. 

Sam knew what the man looked like. He’d seen him come in and check on Gad a couple of times. Gad had always straightened right up, gotten stiff and very respectful. It reminded Sam of Dean and their father. That was probably why Henriksen made Sam’s teeth itch. Or maybe it was the piece of paper Sam had folded up in his wallet. 

He still don’t know how he felt about that piece of paper. Gadreel was terrified of going back to prison. He could be a very quiet man, given to silence because he didn’t want to talk about prison, but it made up most of his life. When Gadreel did talk about it, it was mostly in the context of being happy to be out. 

That was the other reason Sam knew Henriksen. Sam knew that Henriksen was one of the strictest parole officers, but he also had one of the highest rates of non-repeat offenders, so long as the parolee didn’t get sent back. Sam knew this because Gadreel was grateful to have the man in his life, as terrified as he was of him. 

So getting a call from Henriksen about the… well, unfortunate incident, had made Sam’s blood pressure shoot up. 

“I take it Gad talked with you,” Sam said. He picked up his coffee and took a sip. It was black, and completely unfancy in the little white cup. Coffee was a safe kind of drug, even if Sam found himself jittery sometimes from having drunk about seven cups of the stuff in a day. 

“He did,” Henriksen said. He sipped his own coffee, licked drips of the milky concoction off his lips and let out a sigh. “I’m a little surprised that you didn’t contact me first, given what Mr. Milton has told me.” 

“I’m not going to send him back,” Sam said. He could feel the stubborn pull of his own lips. He was angry and hurt, but he’d never be that vindictive. 

“Yes, well, I’d like to hear from you what happened,” Henriksen said. 

“Why?” Sam asked. 

“Because Mr Milton’s description made it seem like it was completely his fault, and I know him enough to know his guilt covers things. I want to know the truth,” Henriksen said, looking Sam in the eyes. 

Sam swallowed a bit. He knew Gadreel was tending the bar. They weren’t talking very loud, but Sam also didn’t want Gadreel to even maybe overhear, or anyone else for that matter. “I’ll tell you if we can go for a walk.” 

“Deal,” Henriksen said. He took another sip of his coffee and then set it down and stood. Sam stood and walked out, certain that the man would follow after him. Henriksen caught up with him pretty quickly. 

They headed down the street. Sam didn’t have a particular destination in mind, but he did finally stop when he realized they were walking by the park. He found a bench for them to sit at. Henriksen stayed silent the entire time. 

He stayed silent when they sat down too, but he looked at Sam with this very intent gaze. Sam didn’t know exactly how long he could be silent before Henriksen would ask him something, but Sam didn’t want to find out. HE had a feeling it would be all day, and Sam just didn’t have the time for that. 

Sam took a deep breath and just started. “I’m pretty certain that I don’t remember much. I know Gad doesn’t remember anything at all except for when we woke up.” He felt his stomach roll over. He didn’t want any of this to be happening. He wished they could just go back to a few days ago when Sam was just starting to think that Gad wouldn’t hurt him, and that maybe it would be worth the shot. 

He didn’t want to be feeling sick to his stomach every time he even thought about his friend.

“He’s very insistent that it’s his fault,” Henriksen said. “

“It is,” Sam said. “But it’s mine too. I don’t even know whose idea it was… no, that’s not true. Gad gets flirty when he’s drunk. And I make bad choices when I’m drunk. I remember him climbing in my lap and kissing me. And I remember not letting him get up when he tried, and that he just smiled and looked at me like I was a blessing… but then I don’t know who’s idea it was specifically… but I know it could have been me.” 

“Do you blame him?” Henriksen asked. 

Sam found himself shrugging. “I feel… bad. But I don’t know. I mean, maybe, because if he hadn’t wanted me so much then maybe I wouldn’t have gone along with it. But I have no way of knowing because I don’t remember that much.” 

“You’re certain you don’t want to report him?” 

Sam looked over at Henriksen, who was staring intently at Sam, like whatever he said meant everything. It jolted Sam a little to realize how much Henriksen was actually listening to him. Did he put this much care into all his cases? Or was it just for Gadreel? 

“I’m absolutely certain,” Sam said. “He gave me the key to his jail cell, and it’s got his scared to his very soul… but he’ll go back if ask. It was an accident. I don’t know if I can stand to have him in my life anymore, but I don’t want to lock him up.” 

Henriksen nodded. Then he turned his head and looked out at the park. “Sometimes the system isn’t really that good at what it does,” he said. “There’s nothing in between hard punishment and freedom, except for maybe the wealthy.” 

“Which we aren’t,” Sam said. 

Henriksen’s lips twitched a bit into an almost smile. Then he pushed himself off the park bench. He pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to Sam. “This is a councilor I trust. I believe you should call her. You need to deal with this.” 

“Is Gad getting one too?” Sam asked, looking down at the name at the card. Donna Hanscum, sexual assault councilor. 

“Mr Milton will be taken care of,” Henriksen said in a gruff tone. Sam guessed that meant that Henriksen couldn’t actually discuss it. So Sam took that as a yes.

“Thanks,” Sam said. He got up and walked away. He had a shift coming up not too far away and he wanted food before that could happen.

* * *

Gadreel got a call from Henriksen to come in for another meeting later in the week. Gadreel hadn’t seen Sam since he walked out with Henriksen, but he also hadn’t had anyone come to arrest him, so he figured Sam still had decided against having him arrested. He was honestly relieved. He still wish he’d known what Sam and Henriksen talked about. 

He was afraid to know too. 

He went to his meeting, arriving ten minutes early. Henriksen’s door was already open, but Gadreel knocked before he came in anyway. 

Henriksen was sitting behind his desk, and there was a woman in the office with him. She looked up at offered Gadreel a truly blinding smile. She made him feel badly off kilted the second Gadreel saw her. 

Henriksen dressed in suit jackets, slacks and button ups with ties. He always wore the same type of outfit, though sometimes the sleeves got rolled up when he was working particularly hard. He always looked both very official and yet intimidating. This woman did wear a suit, but to be honest it looked ab it frumpy. Gadreel couldn’t imagine Henriksen not looking polished. But this woman didn’t look anything like him. He wondered if she was also a probation officer. 

“Mr Milton,” Henriksen said. 

Gad blushed, realizing that he’d just been standing there staring. “I-I’m sorry. I’m early. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting.” 

“Oh it’s no trouble,” the woman said with an even bigger smile. “I’m Donna Hanscum. Viktor called and asked me to come.” 

“Um,” Gadreel said. He looked between Ms Hanscum’s smiling face and Henriksen’s ever present frown. “Am I being transferred?” he asked, not understanding. 

“Donna Hanscum is a sexual assault therapist,” Henriksen said in his normal gruff voice. He was looking at Gadreel, focusing on him completely. 

“Oh,” Gadreel said, feeling relieved. “For, Sam, right?” 

“Oh no, I’m here for you,” Ms Hanscum said. Her bright smile became a little sad. “Viktor told me your situation and he believes that you’d benefit from counseling.” 

“I don’t understand,” Gad said. He looked between them, trying to find some kind of answer. Sam had been the one assaulted, not him. 

“Therapy is part of the conditions of your parole,” Henriksen said. 

“I know,” Gadreel said. “I see the court appointed therapist every two weeks. I thought you got regular reports.” He paid for those sessions himself. Most of his money went to paying the therapist and rent. 

“Yes,” Henriksen said. “This is different. Your therapy with Ms Hanscum will not be discussed with me or anyone as part of your parole.” 

“Mr Milton,” Ms Hanscum started. She got up and closed the door. “I’m aware of your financial issues. The paperwork has already been put through for our sliding scale pay. Viktor is requiring this for you because it’s irresponsible for him to allow you to finish your sentence and go back to normal living when you can’t recognize when you’ve been assaulted.” 

“But I haven’t been,” Gadreel protested too loudly. He winced. “My apologies.” 

“It’s okay to be upset,” Ms Hanscum said. “Will you let me ask you a few questions?” 

“Yeah,” Gadreel said. He looked at the two chairs in front of Henriksen’s desk. “You mind if I sit down?” 

“I’d prefer it,” Ms Hanscum said. 

Gadreel slowly lowered himself into the chair Ms Hanscum hadn’t been sitting in. She sat down in the other chair and angled it so she was facing him only. He noted this and turned his body to look at her, but he didn’t move the chair. 

“Have you ever woken up in bed with someone before and not remembered how you got there?” she asked.

Gadreel drew in a shaky breath. “You mean besides what happened with Sam?” 

“Yes,” she said, giving him her full attention. 

“Yes,” he said flatly. 

“Did those incidences make you feel good?” she asked. 

“No.” How could they? 

“Have they happened a lot recently?” Henriksen asked. 

Gadreel jolted and looked at him. “Will… that be a problem?” 

Henriksen looked him right in the eyes. “It depends on how often you go out drinking.” 

“Um, I can’t afford it too much,” Gadreel said. 

“But the majority of the incidences have happened since your parole began,” Henriksen said. 

Gadreel turned red. “Not…. Actually.” He’d been a stupid kid. He’d liked drinking. He’d gone to parties a lot when he was 14, 15 and 16. 

Henriksen actually looked sad. Gadreel cast his eyes down. “It may be prudent to consider AA meetings.” 

“I know,” Gadreel said. “but I don’t drink at work and I don’t go out much… and I’m going to start this. Please don’t make me.” 

Henriksen sighed heavily. Gadreel didn’t dare look up. He was afraid of what expression he’d see on his parole officer’s face. 

“Viktor, you overheard when he was talking to me as a therapist,” Ms Hanscum pointed out. “He’s trying to be honest.” 

“True,” Henriksen said. “Alright Mr Milton. For now I won’t add AA as a stipulation of your parole. I may regret that later, but for now it’s not an additional requirement.” 

“Thank you,” Gadreel whispered. He looked back at Ms Hanscum who was giving him an adorable and encouraging smile. Gadreel smiled back a little bit.

“You mind if I ask you a few more questions?” she asked. 

“Can I not answer when I don’t want to?” Gadreel asked. 

“Yes, always,” she said. “Though it does make the process easier when you answer honestly.” 

“Okay,” Gadreel said. “What’s your next question?” 

“Did anyone touch you in prison when you didn’t want them to?” she asked so bluntly that Gadreel felt instantly like the world started to tilt. 

“Yes,” Gadreel bit out, trying to not show his teeth. He didn’t need to show off his anger around his parole officer. 

“Would you like to talk about what happened?” she asked. 

“No,” he said flatly. “Never.” 

“We don’t have to,” she said. “What I find curious is that you absolutely recognize what happened to your friend as an assault, but with almost the same scenarios happening to you, you can’t see it as assault.” 

Gadreel felt his stomach drop out. Jesus, they were similar, weren’t they? 

“No, it’s not the same,” Gadreel said. 

“Why is it not?” she asked. 

“I always get amorous when I’m drunk,” Gadreel insisted. “I know I’m likely to go find a bed when I’m drunk.” 

“Are your partners drunk as well?” she asked. 

“No… not always,” he said. He felt terribly uncomfortable. He looked over at Henriksen and wondered if his parole officer would be angry if he just bolted to escape this conversation.   
“Do you consider someone who’s drunk as someone who can consent?” she asked. 

“Of course not,” he snapped. 

“Then why does it being you invalidate the fact that you’re drunk?” she asked. 

That made him pause. A heavy silence filled the room. Both Ms Hanscum and Henriksen were looking at him. Gadreel looked at both of them and saw that they were looking. Then he looked down at his knees. 

“Can we please stop talking about this?” he requested. He hated now small his voice sounded. 

“Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry for upsetting you, but I really believe I can be of help to you.” 

Gad looked up at her. She looked kind. She was smart, and probably very good at her job. He looked at Henriksen. He was the best. If he said that Gad should see her, then Gad should see her. 

“You aren’t going to report on me to anyone?” he asked. 

“I’m not going to report on you to anyone,” she said. 

He took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll do it.” 

She smiled brightly. “Very good. How about I take you to the vending machine for a hot chocolate, and we can schedule for some time this week for the intake appointment.” 

“Ah… okay,” he said. He’d never had a therapist offer to get him food before. He glanced at Henriksen. “Is there anything else you need from me, Sir?” 

“That’s all for the day,” Henriksen said. Gadreel knew a dismissal when he heard one. 

He stood and followed Ms Hanscum out. He absolutely dwarfed her, but he felt like a child with the way she led him to the coffee vending machine and paid for a hot chocolate for him. It wasn’t exactly a bad feeling, because she was very friendly and warm with him. 

“So, Friday then,” she said, after she’d plugged the appointment time to her phone calendar. “Are you going to be okay to go home?” 

“Yeah,” he assured her. “I still don’t think that I need to see you.” 

“That’s okay for now,” she said in an assuring voice. “But I’m glad you agreed to try and see if I can help.” 

“Mr Henriksen is the best,” Gadreel said. “I want to let him help me, because I know if I do that I’ll have a better chance of never going back.” 

Her smile turned very warm. “You’ve got a lot of faith in ol’ Viktor.” 

“He’s been good to me,” Gadreel said. Viktor Henriksen was tough and terrifying. But when Gadreel admitted what happened with Sam, Henriksen had done his best to help Gadreel. Maybe the therapy would help him. But Gadreel was still certain he hadn’t been sexually assaulted.

**Author's Note:**

> Please understand that I have a few problems with the Sadreel pairing to begin with. If Samifer is really all about consent, then Sadreel is really against consent. angels taking a vessel is often treated, especially in fandom, as some kind of sexual metaphor because of the importance of consent. It's not rape, but it's a good parallel. Gadreel, though I like him as a character and find him interesting, though he did his best to justify his actions and heal Sam while he possessed him and allow Sam to have his normal life, did enter Sam without his true consent. There's a very big problem of non-con/dub-con associated with the pairing and I wanted to explore that in a human AU. 
> 
> Of course, the (not so) fun of this comes from the fact that rape culture is so pervasive and as such the best thing to protect rape victims is to enforce the broadest definition of rape, and say that all rape is wrong and evil and should be prosecuted. When someone is too drunk to say no, they have been raped. 
> 
> Gadreel recognizes this for Sam, especially because Sam does feel violated. I want to explore more about Gadreel's problem with his own issues of being unable to give consent, but also deal with Sam's struggle after the event. In the broadest definition both Gadreel and Sam were raped, but neither of them believe that Gadreel is affected in the same way. 
> 
> Basically this is a complicated mess of a story and I'm aware that I'm walking onto thin, salted ice while I try to work through this, and to guide the boys along as well. I'm fumbling in the dark, but that's why I feel like I need to write it. We need to explore the greyer corners of this kind of issue. Generally this is not what happens, and rape should be reported and no victim should ever be blamed. 
> 
> Please, bare with me as I work on this. I've got part of chapter two done, but the first chapter was where I intended to end this originally, though as you can see I do plan on continuing. 
> 
> Thank you.


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